𝙂𝙊𝘼𝙇𝙎 | blue lock

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

"This sucks."

"Because you're not doing anything."

"'Because you're not doing anything,'" you mocked Rin in an exaggerated tone of voice. Of course you were doing something. Standing stationary on the field, pushing a ball around lazily with your foot was something.

You just simply hadn't lost your mind enough to be doing drills an hour after you woke up like Rin. The real question was why you followed him out to the practice field in the first place. And there is—drum roll please—no logical answer for that.

He was barely out of breath after repeatedly kicking the balls he had lined up into the goal. You could only watch on and yearn to have the ability to breathe like that...so freely...a dream. To think he doesn't even appreciate what he has.

"Why are you even here if you're not going to practice?" he snarked while getting more balls off the rack.

"I was possessed to come here."

"Good. Maybe that fucking ghost will finally get rid of you."

You rolled your eyes. The young are so troubled these days, even taking it out on others. "Rude, man. I'm wounded."

"Bleed out."

"Okaaaaay. Anyway," you shrugged off, opting to change the subject, "...Do you think you'll win?" You honestly couldn't tell if the 'Blue Lock Eleven' would be able to pull through against Japan's National team. Even though the announcement for the lineup wasn't four a few hours, you had enough common sense to know Rin would be on it.

"Obviously. We have to crush them," he said, uninterestedly. The real question was whether he was really that confident, or he just didn't want to talk about anything remotely regarding his brother. "Actually—You're not going to play, right?"

"Wow," you deadpanned. "You don't have to sound so damn eager."

"I want to beat him alone."

Hmm, maybe he wasn't so opposed to talking about him. On the flip side, you could understand his point. With you there, you'd (obviously) do all the work and win (easily). Clearly.

You sighed, looking down at the ball by your feet as you rolled it over. "I get it. And, no, I'm not playing."

He nodded firmly, "O-"

"Ah, ah, ah. I'm cutting you off right there. Because if you start celebrating I swear to-"

You paused your slight threat, as you heard the speaker system crackle on, the faint sounds of rustling being sent throughout the facility. "Give me the mic, old man."

"I'm not old—whatever, take it. I don't care."

You couldn't have spoken another word even if you had wanted to, your voice unwillingly died in your throat the moment the first voice sounded. Even though it was faint from the distance the mic was picking it up from, you knew who it belonged to clear as day.

Looking over to your counterpart, it seemed he did as well. You would laugh at how humorous this situation was to the joint meeting the other day, but you couldn't see whatever was to come out of this as being funny.

The person at the microphone cleared their throat, "Oh, it was on. Right—[Surname][Name], come to Ego's office. Now, preferably."

You could barely even form a coherent thought. Your entire body was frozen like a deer caught in headlights, the same confusion and shock of a fawn stuck in traffic present on your face. You rigidly turned to face your right, "Rin..."